


A Modest Proposition

by leiascully



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Steve plays hard to get, Superhero Suits, Tony/Science OTP, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve thinks Tony's come-ons could use a little work.  Or a lot of work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Modest Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-Avengers, I guess  
> A/N: Don't know where this came from. Don't know where it's going. God only knows why it's happening. But the banter, ye gods.  
> Disclaimer: _The Avengers_ and all related characters are property of Marvel Studios and Joss Whedon. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Steve likes getting new suits, because after the old one gets scorched or ripped open or malfunctions, it's good to have something to wear that doesn't offer non-standard ventilation or crushing pain. On the other hand, Steve hates getting new suits, because there's apparently nothing that S.H.I.E.L.D. can build that Tony Stark doesn't believe he can't improve. 

Whether or not Stark is right isn't the point. It's the minute examination and the accompanying condescension that drives Steve up the wall. Stark acts like he's God's gift to science; he doesn't have a humble bone in his body. Neither did Howard, maybe, but Howard knew how to be a friend. Steve isn't sure that Stark ever passed that lesson. Stark doesn't know how to share his toys. He doesn't say please. There are days that Steve feels like Stark is about half an inch from hitting him over the head and taking his ice cream sandwich, or whatever the hell it is that Steve has that Stark wants. 

But when he gets the message, he goes to his fitting anyway, because Stark might be a jackass, but he's good at what he does. Steve knows better than to suit up in anything but the best. The fate of the free world is at stake. He's not risking innocent lives over any personal differences he and Stark might have. He'll just endure the scanning and the comments and the almost-inappropriate touching as Stark pokes at him, finetuning technologies Steve can barely imagine.

It starts out all right. Stark tells him, "Stand right there, princess," but Steve can't even feel like it's a gay crack - he's pretty sure there's nobody who isn't "princess" to Stark when he's in the science mood. The President is probably "princess", and the Secretary of State, and every single official on down, except for maybe Nick Fury. Steve has to smile at that thought. Even missing an eye, he's pretty sure Nick Fury can bring Stark down a couple of pegs with a well-placed look. 

Stark snaps his fingers at him. "Come on, sunshine. I haven't got all day."

Steve sighs. He does miss manners sometimes, but he does as he's told and hops up on the platform. Stark ignores him for the most part after that, at least in terms of conversation. Steve stands as still as he can while Stark peers at him and talks to Jarvis. Stark walks around behind him and Steve can't help tensing up. It's the judgment. Stark makes him feel like he's a showgirl again, some trained monkey that people keep around just for the entertainment. 

"You didn't perchance fuck my dad, did you?" Stark asks out of nowhere.

"No," Steve says, a little startled. He thinks of Howard's warmth and liveliness compared to his son's jittery cockiness. It never was just cheese and bread with Howard, but he was never on the receiving end of any fondue invitations. "Didn't think it was an option."

Stark shrugs. "Just asking. I don't like sloppy seconds." He pauses. "Especially my father's."

Steve turns his head and stares at Stark, who stares back with his default expression of blank amusement at the petty concerns of all non-Stark individuals. Steve isn't really sure how he does it. "As propositions go, that could use some work." 

Stark blanks at him. "Never had any complaints."

"Huh," Steve says, facing front again. He doesn't like having Stark unseen behind him, but he doesn't want to see Stark's expressions anymore. "Seems like you might get a few from Pepper if she knew you were trying to pick me up."

"Wrong," Stark tells him. "Pepper's a hundred percent for it. Something about sex being a healthier avenue for working through my issues than any other self-destructive method I've tried over the years. Personally, I think she just wants to watch."

"Huh," Steve says again, because there doesn't seem to be much else to say. He's trying not to think about Pepper watching him have sex with anybody, because the suit's pretty tight and he's got nowhere to hide. 

"Was that 'huh, thought you were straight' or 'huh, thought you were monogamous'?" Stark asks, his voice full of amusement even if his face doesn't show it.

Steve shrugs.

"I'm an engineer," Stark says, finally walking back around. "I'd be remiss if I didn't study all permutations of the human form."

Steve tries not to roll his eyes. "Has that line ever worked on anybody?"

Stark grins. "More than you'd think."

"Jesus," Steve says, shaking his head.

"So what do you say?" Stark crosses his arms and waits, leaning off to the side in that cool-casual way that Steve can never quite manage.

"I'm flattered," Steve says.

"And yes?" Stark says, cocking up one eyebrow. 

"And I'm not sure sex is the best way to work through _my_ issues," Steve says, dropping off the platform. 

"I'm not hearing no," Stark presses.

Steve stares him down; he does at least have the advantage of height. "You're not hearing yes, either."

"I'm sure I hardly need to say it, but I'm phenomenal in bed," Stark tells him.

"Sorry I can't make the same assurances," Steve says. "No living witnesses."

"Ouch," Stark says, almost sounding actually sympathetic. For a half-second, Steve catches a glimpse of some kind of humanity behind the designer sunglasses and tight t-shirts. And then it's gone again, replaced by a smirk. "If you need something to cry on, I can come up with something better than a shoulder."

"You never stop, do you?" Steve asks.

"Nope," Stark says cheerfully. "Ask Pepper. Actually, ask anybody. I get what I want."

"You don't want me," Steve tells him, turning toward the door.

Stark snaps at him again. "Uh uh. You're not getting out of here until you strip down." 

"I said no," Steve says. It's kind of funny, but it's mostly frustrating. He just wants to go down to the gym. The punching bag never talks back and it never hits on him.

"The suit," Stark says. "I need the suit. Jesus, Cap, if I just wanted you naked, I'd at least offer you a drink first."

It doesn't mean he doesn't watch with an appreciative look on his face while Steve fumbles with the zippers and fastenings of the suit. Stark doesn't offer to leave and Steve doesn't ask - he's damn well not going to act like it bothers him that Stark keeps looking him over like he's deciding on a steak. At least he's got on shorts and a t-shirt underneath. They're incredibly tight and they don't hide much, but it's not his bare skin under Stark's eyes. 

"Should I put on some music?" Stark offers as Steve peels off the top of the suit. 

"Fuck you," Steve says. The material is tight and stiff and the suit's not easy to get out of. Every time he thinks he's found all the zippers, he's wrong.

Stark clicks his tongue. "Now we're on the same page." He reaches for something on his lab table. "I didn't know you were authorized to use that kind of language. Aren't you supposed to be wholesome?"

"I'm supposed to be a lot of things," Steve says, finally getting his torso free. "So are you, but I can't say you exceed expectations."

"That's because you've never seen me in the right light," Stark says, batting his eyes facetiously. 

"Do you ever shut up?" Steve asks.

"Never," Stark says instantly. "I find it to be one of my more charming attributes. Pepper disagrees. She likes my ass." 

"It's a lot more eloquent than your mouth is most of the time," Steve agrees, finally locating the right zipper and loosening the suit enough that he can push it down to his hips. 

"I knew you'd been looking," Stark says, sounding satisfied. He cues up one of his floating displays and gazes at it. 

Steve groans, shucking the suit down his legs. He picks it up and hands it to Stark. "Here." 

"You're a champion," Stark says absently, shifting tables and charts and numbers around with his fingers. "Just leave it on the counter." 

"Now I'm really glad I said no," Steve mutters. "Love 'em and tell 'em not to let the door hit them in the ass on the way out, huh?"

Stark looks up briefly from his display and his teeth gleam in a surprisingly charming smile. "Trust me," he says. "That's not what it would be like if you'd said yes."

Steve has no answer to that one, but Stark's smile follows him all the way down to the gym.


End file.
